No matter what you drink or smoke
It won't erase the fact you're broke
You didn't win an oscar, you still can't walk in heels
You will have no control, and you hate the way it feels
You work a nine to five job four days a week
And after you didn't get into NYU your future started to look bleak
The girl you once loved left you for a man twice your size
Sometimes you miss her chestnut hair and her pretty green eyes
You're left with her screaming child all alone
With a rotting couch and an outdated phone
You didn't chase your dreams, you still can't drive a car
You will keep writing shitty songs, though they never got you far
Although your boring nine to five job pays quite well
And your old rotting couch was able to sell
And they haven't yet buried you six feet underground
So I guess you still have a chance to turn your life around
You've gotten the Oscar you wanted to get
Even though it's plastic and you won it in a bet
Your child is still breathing
Even though for months you've been heaving
Your phone's screen is yet to be shattered
Even though your heart has been beaten and battered
You've put down the drink and put out the smoke
And although you're broken, at least you're not broke
A/N
This is based on an amazing poem called Relax, google it, it's really good.
